But I Should Like It All The Same
by Pepperweb
Summary: A tispy Charles Bingley reveals that he's never even kissed a woman. He requests an education in matters of intimacy and, with a bit of persuasion, Darcy obliges to instruct him. Regency-Era smut, Darcy/Bingley.
1. Chapter 1

A lot of people wondered that Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley could be such good friends.

When one was as charming as could be imagined and the other as disagreeable as he was allowed to be in polite society, which considering Mr Darcy was exceedingly rich meant that he could get away with being very disagreeable indeed.

But, it must be noted, he was not disagreeable to Mr Bingley, or well, he was a little but the latter had a way of brushing off the former's lack of amusement at seemingly anything with a cheery grin and a wave. And, it must be said, Mr Darcy did look out for Mr Bingley, he took him into his home once the younger man had left Cambridge and introduced him to the upper echelons of society and gave him good advice when it came to financial matters. It was a good thing, people said, that Mr Darcy was a close friend of Bingley's, or else the naïve man might well have been cheated out of everything he owned due to his unfailingly pleasant demeanour.

It was also, perhaps, a good thing that Bingley was a close friend of Darcy's, for those that knew the tall, dark haired man, knew him to be a serious fellow, prone to scowling and in possession of a fiery temper. But with the inclusion of Bingley into Darcy's society the man seemed very altered in his behaviour towards his younger friend. To everyone else he remained the same in his actions and words, but to Mr Bingley, you could see, once in a while, a rare smile grace that usually sullen face. A smile that was only reserved for his closest friend, a smile that remained between the two of them.

'You know Darcy, I don't think I've seen you smile once since I made your acquaintance all those months ago at your cousin's Christmas gathering.'

'Bingley, I wonder that you've been taking notice of my facial expressions.' Darcy replied, looking across his Cambridge dorm room over to the chair where a tipsy Charles was lounging, glass of wine in one hand, a book of philosophy he was idling leafing through in the other.

'Of course I have man! You have so often an expression of absolute thunder that I frequently question why there aren't sparks flying from your hair.'

Darcy huffed and turned back to his desk, he dipped his pen in the inkwell and tried to continue with his letter to Georgiana. But Charles was being too distracting in the background. He'd stood up from the chair and was now perusing through Darcy's bookshelves, taking books out, putting them back in the wrong order and moving around the paperweights on the shelves.

'Charles, haven't you got anything better to do?' he asked pointedly, getting up and removing the expensive wax sealer that had been a gift from his father from Bingley's hands and setting it down carefully.

'Not especially,' replied Bingley, grinning.

'So bothering me is your only option?'

The smile faltered on Bingley's face and something twinged within Darcy's chest, he'd said the wrong thing, he always seemed to say the wrong thing to Charles.

'Am I really bothering you?' Bingley asked worriedly.

'No, of course not Charles. I just don't know why you'd rather be here with me than somewhere else, weren't there any pretty girls out tonight?'

'There were some uncommonly pretty girls, but I never seem to be able to talk to them.'

'You talk well enough most of the time,' Darcy pointed out. After he'd met Bingley, a man a few years his junior at Cambridge, he'd never seemed to have a moment's peace, not that he minded of course. Something about Charles's cheerful easy chatter set him at ease.

'Well yes, but that's to you, or to one of the other fellows, or to girls who aren't available. There's just something about young, pretty, single girls which makes me unable to get a word out. You know I've never even kissed a girl?'

Well that was surprising, 'But…' and now Darcy was struggling for words, 'but surely you've…' and he trailed off, hoping that Bingley would get the meaning without him having to spell it out.

'I've what?'

Alas, it was never going to be that easy. Darcy moved across his room to the door and pushed it fully shut, making sure no one could overhear their conversation. He turned back to look at Bingley who was standing in the middle of the room a bewildered expression on his face.

'Surely you've….' Darcy repeated, this time with a vague gesture.

Bingley just gave him a blank look.

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out slowly. He then looked up and said quickly 'Surely you've bedded a woman'.

At least Bingley found this situation as embarrassing as he did, the fair haired man went bright red and stammered, 'Well…no actually I haven't.'

And it wasn't a thrill that ran through Darcy's body just then, _it wasn't_. It was surprise that was all.

'Oh' he managed, 'Right, I see.'

'Oh you must think I'm a fool' cried Bingley, he made to stride past Darcy and to leave the room but Darcy stuck out a hand and grabbed his friend's upper arm.

'No, sir, I don't,' he said in a level tone, looking Charles directly in the eyes. At his words he saw relief flood through Bingley and Darcy carefully guided the young man back to the chair and he went to his cabinet and, unstoppering a bottle of wine, poured them both a glass. Handing a glass to Bingley who took it gratefully, Darcy pulled up another chair to sit across from his friend, close enough that their knees might just touch.

'So,' started Bingley again, taking a sip of the wine, 'If you don't think me a fool, then what do you think of me?'

Well that wasn't a loaded question by half... Darcy struggled to keep thoughts he'd hoped he'd buried from rising to the surface. Thoughts about Charles, thoughts that instead of being disparaged upon discovering his inexperience, were actually now encouraged, stimulated and racing through his mind. Thoughts that were entirely inappropriate.

Darcy sipped his drink as well and let his eyes slide from where they had been looking at Charles's face to the floor. He took a breath 'I think….you are an innocent young man, ' he said, hoping Charles would catch the glint in his eye.

Charles did and laughed.

'Not too innocent I hope…' he said chuckling but then paused, 'Some of the thoughts I have Darcy….well you'd be ashamed to know me.' Bingley ducked his head and gulped down half of his remaining wine.

'I'm sure they're thoughts no different to any other person,' replied Darcy calmly, but inside he was furiously trying to squash his own shameful thoughts.

'Darcy…I…what's it like?' asked Bingley suddenly, emboldened perhaps by the drink. 'Being with a woman I mean.'

Darcy opened his mouth, not quite sure what to say but Bingley cut him off '-No, it is no matter, you do not have to answer, forgive me, I am sorry I asked.' He made to move out of the chair but Darcy spoke, 'No, you are my friend, and if it is in my power to give you something that you lack, even if it is a basic education, then…I cannot deny you.'

'You are a friend I don't deserve' said Bingley morosely.

'I think it might be better said the other way around' said Darcy wryly, 'You are too good by half Charles. You needn't worry about finding a girl, she'll come along soon enough.'

'But can you tell me?' asked Bingley, hesitantly, 'Just so I might imagine more accurately what it is like.'

Darcy hissed out a breath, never mind Bingley imagining things, what things was he himself imagining?

He nodded, trying to find time to calm his thoughts, 'Where-' his voice cracked a little, 'Where would you like me to start?' Lord above! He was too sober for this conversation. He downed the rest of his glass and wordlessly took Bingley's and refilled them.

'Well…wherever you please or think best,' said Bingley taking his now quite full glass from Darcy. As he did so, their fingers brushed and Darcy did not imagine the spark that the contact made, because he actually felt it, running under his skin like a current.

He gulped some more of the alcohol and thought about where to begin, 'When kissing-' he started and he forced himself to keep a steady voice, 'When kissing a woman, she will most likely be unprepared for it, men of course may have more experience, but a lady, well she will not know what to do…so you must take charge' he said quite boldly. 'Move in slowly but unwaveringly, look to her lips to make sure you meet them, then press your mouth to hers. Keep your lips soft' he said and goddammit he could help it but to look at Charles's lips, he flicked his eyes away as quickly as he could, fervently hoping Bingley had not noticed. 'Keep them soft and slightly parted so you can put light pressure on hers before moving away.'

And he must have been looking back at Charles's lips because he distinctly saw the man's tongue come out to wet them. The breath Darcy took in was shaky.

'How long should it last?'

Darcy blinked, he made himself look up to Charles's eyes, they were warm and brown. Darcy realised the Bingley had asked a question, 'Oh….as long as you see fit.'

'But how long is that? And how do I know if my lips are soft? How do I know how much pressure to put on hers?'

Darcy just looked at Bingley and was lost for words. He was pretty sure his mouth was open. He took another gulp of his drink.

'Charles I really think-'

'-No please, don't stop. It was really good advice, just I….I don't know if this is something you can explain to me.'

'In that I think we are in agreement' nodded Darcy, relieved that this conversation seemed to be over. He took another mouthful of wine and looked over to his desk.

'-No, well….I mean…perhaps you need to…show me?' asked Bingley, his voice getting quieter throughout the sentence.

Darcy froze, only his eyes moving back to look at Charles.

'I am unclear as to what you mean' he said carefully, 'Do you…do you want me to find you a girl, a woman…to…to...' he was struggling to find the words to put this delicately, 'to… gain an education with?' he winced at the phrasing.

'Oh no!' Bingley protested, lurching forward in his chair the drink in his hand spilling a little at the movement, 'No Darcy I wasn't asking that of you' and he put a hand on Darcy's thigh to steady himself. Darcy could do nothing but stare at Bingley's hand where it came into contact with his clothed leg.

'What…what were you asking of me?' he questioned in a strained voice.

'I was asking,' said Bingley and his eyes were also fixed on his hand that rested on Darcy's thigh. 'If you could…show me?' and he tightened his grip on Darcy's thigh. Darcy inhaled a shuddering breath. This was not possible; this could not be happening. Bingley's hand on his leg was burning through the cloth of the trouser and branding his skin.

'Is there-' he began in a slightly strangled voice, 'Is there any reason you can give to explain how I might be misinterpreting your words?'

'None at all' said Bingley seriously, 'And I sincerely hope you are not misinterpreting my words for anything less than they are.'

'Charles' he tried to reason.

'Darcy'

'Charles, you do not know what you are asking.'

'No I do not' replied Bingley in agreement, his eyes met Darcy's and they were so open, so honest. 'But that is precisely why I am asking you.'

Lord! It was too much. Darcy closed his eyes tightly. Charles could not, _could not,_ be asking this of him. Something which he had, only at his very worst moments allowed himself to imagine. Only at those times where he was so low as to take himself in hand and find completion when thinking of his friend. Those shameful moments where he abused his friend's sincere belief in him, he took those moments of friendship, of closeness and used it to chase his own pleasure. He had taken advantage of his friend's good nature, in his dirtiest thoughts and wettest dreams. To be offered that in reality? This could not be happening.

'Charles-' he protested again, but it was a weak protestation, he couldn't put any force behind it. Was he that desperate? Yes. Yes he was indeed.

'Darcy' repeated his friend with a small smile. And it was only that which was needed to settle Darcy's mind. For that smile meant surety, meant confidence, it meant sincerity.

'Fitzwilliam' he said, clearing his throat, and setting his drink down on the low table beside them, 'You may as well call me by my given name.'

Bingley nodded, 'Fitzwilliam,' he tried out, then beamed as he ran his hand further up Darcy's leg. Darcy hissed out loud.

Bingley faltered and set his drink down also. 'If this is a request too far, sir, then pray tell me now and the whole matter will be forgot.'

And here he was, giving him an out. Darcy winced inwardly, what had he ever done to deserve a friend like Charles?

'No' he said, 'My good friend, there can never be anything you ask of me that will be too much. But if you-' he said, looking at Charles straight, 'If you wish the matter to be forgot then leave at once.'

'I regret not one thing'

' _Lord'_ swore Darcy, 'Do you know what you are asking?'

'I do not know what I am asking' said Charles with a laugh now, and how can he possess that which makes him so cheerful? 'But I know who I am asking it from.'

'I do not deserve your trust or faith in me.'

'But you have it all the same.'

'Lord.'

'Kiss me Fitzwilliam,' said Charles and Darcy needed no second invitation.

It wasn't a hard distance to close, he merely had to sit forward and they were nose to nose. Darcy remembered his advice from earlier and was determined to live it out to the full. He moved in confidently but slowly, taking the lead. His eyes glanced upwards to check in with Bingley before he flicked them back down to the lips in front of him. Once more a pink tongue flitted out to wet the lips and it was all the solicitation Darcy needed. He parted his lips a little and lowered his mouth to Bingley's.

Bingley's lips were slightly chapped and they tasted faintly of the wine. His bottom lip was between Darcy's own two and keeping it light, Darcy put the smallest of pressures on it before moving slowly away.

He moved his head back steadily. The room seemed to be spinning and the only thing anchoring him was Charles's hand still on his thigh.

'Ah' said Charles softly, opening his eyes which had fluttered closed, 'So that's how you do it.'

'Do you…' Darcy found he had to clear his throat again. 'Do you require further instruction?'

'I have many questions' replied Bingley, 'Questions which I suspect can only be answered by further tuition. Perhaps, perhaps you may instruct me in the finer points of kissing?'

'I'd be happy to oblige' said Darcy, he wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or just the company of Bingley which was making his head a little fuzzy but it was pleasant enough. He shifted in his chair so he was closer to Bingley and Bingley did the same. Their thighs were now interlocked with one another, Bingley's knee reached mid-thigh point on Darcy. His hand had remained where it was. Darcy looked at it again and pressed his own had down on Charles's.

Charles gasped as Darcy lifted his fingers and entwined them with his own. But the breath was silenced as Darcy covered his mouth with his. Because Bingley's lips were already parted it was little effort for Darcy to open them further and press his tongue forward enquiringly. Bingley made a noise of shock but before he could pull his head away, Darcy brought his free hand up to grasp the back of his neck and keep Bingley's head in place.

Darcy was confident in his kissing. He licked his way into Bingley's mouth, swirling along the inside of his bottom lip, stroking over Charles's tongue and lapping at the roof of his mouth. Charles let out a moan at this from somewhere in his throat and it encouraged Darcy further. He deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue up against Charles's, stroking it, inviting him to participate in the kiss. Charles tentatively moved and pressed at Darcy. Darcy made a noise in his own throat, one of approval.

Then, almost as suddenly as he entered, he withdrew. He licked a stripe over Charles's bottom lip and nipped at it playfully before pressing two firm, closed mouth kisses on Charles's lips and moving back.

The hand which had been steady at the back of Charles's head loosened and fingers moved to gently thread through the curls at the nape of the fair haired man's neck.

'Heaven's above' sighed Charles, 'I had not known it would be so exhilarating.'

'You are pleased?' asked Darcy gently, trying to catch Charles's eye.

'Oh Fitzwilliam!' he cried and Darcy could not contain the shiver that his name falling from Charles's lips caused. 'How could I not be pleased?'

There was a pause and Darcy found his mouth turning up into a smile.

'There! Now you must be pleased to or else you would not be smiling so!'

Darcy ducked his head, but it was in vain, the smile would not leave him.

'If I had known that a kiss was all it took to get Fitzwilliam Darcy to smile, then perhaps I would have propositioned you a long while ago.'

'Oh would you?' asked Darcy archly, 'And had you any assurances I would say yes?'

'Darcy, your company is all the assurance I need,' replied Bingley, 'For I do not know of anyone else you put up with so patiently….or so kindly.'

'That is true….you are a rare fellow Charles.'

'Kiss me again Fitzwilliam, I wish to learn more.'

'Lord, what have I awakened in you?'

'Only that which is the most natural in any person.'

'Which is?'

'The desire to touch and be touched.'

'To think that I called you innocent,' said Darcy in wonderment. How could it be than in the space of a few minutes they had crossed the threshold from friends to...something more than friends? Darcy had never even allowed himself to imagine a time when he could put his mouth to Charles's and for them to still remain friends afterward. But Charles made it easy. Like he did everything. It was not in his nature to be disagreeable, he saw the best in everything…in everyone. Lord! Darcy did not deserve this man in his life, not as a friend, and definitely not as something more than a friend.

'I do not wish to remain innocent any longer' declared Bingley in a quiet tone.

'Do you even _know_ what-'

'Again Darcy! No I do not. But _show_ me, _teach_ me. Explain in actions not words the ways in which a man can lie with another man.'

'You are not doing this to learn for a woman?' Darcy's mind seemed to be working slower than usual. He was having trouble understanding the words coming from Charles's mouth.

'Is it so different?' asked Bingley, 'For a man to lie with a man, than it is for a man to lie with a woman.'

'Well… there are one or two particulars.' Darcy struggled to form the sentence. He praised himself on being a bold man. A man of decision. Here he was struggling to use basic English. '… But I suppose, in essence it is the same.'

'Fitzwilliam, I am tired of asking. Will you allow yourself to show me?'

'I….I will', in all honesty, there was nothing he would not deny his friend if it was in his power to grant it. He was completely at the subject and mercy of Charles Bingley and he could not even bring himself to hate it. Instead, he resolved to own it.

'Stand up' he ordered, raising from his own chair himself. Charles did as he was told. Their hands were still in each other's grasp from where they had been resting on Darcy's thigh for all that time.

'Come' he said as he led Bingley across the room and through the door to the adjoining bedchamber.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as they entered the room, Darcy turned and closed the door behind them. He then crowded Charles up against the wooden door and taking his face between his hands proceeded to kiss him very thoroughly.

Darcy was not a man of halves. If he had made a decision then he was going to damn well commit to it, body and mind. Added to the fact that he'd been longing for this since the moment he'd made Charles's acquaintance, there was nothing on earth that was going to stop him now.

Charles was making little noises of pleasure the more he deepened the kiss so he dropped his hands from Bingley's face to his waist and pulled him closer to his own body. Charles was taken by surprise and he threw his arms around Darcy's shoulders to steady himself.

To finally have Charles in his arms…it was almost too much.

Darcy left off from Charles's mouth, sweet though it was but he wanted to taste his skin. He mouthed along Bingley's jaw, trailing up to his earlobe, down his neck. But his progress was stifled by the collar points and cravat wrapped neatly around Charles' neck.

'Fitzwilliam' breathed Charles, voice faltering. His hands were tugging at Darcy's jacket, trying to get a grip but he didn't seem to know where to put his hands or to position his body.

Darcy shrugged out of his jacket and help Charles do the same. He returned to kissing his friend's mouth hungrily, whilst clever, dextrous fingers dug into Charles' cravat and pulled the silk apart before sliding it from around his neck and casting it to the floor. It took little effort to expose skin previously hidden beneath the cotton shirt. Darcy ran a hand up Charles' now uncovered collar bones, up his neck and then gripped the hair at the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss.

Charles was a quick learner. For someone who had never kissed before this night, he picked things up quick. After long moments of Darcy opening up his mouth and dictating the kiss, he began to push back, tongue enquiring more boldly than so tentatively before, when they had sat together. This time, it seemed curiosity was driving him, Darcy let him explore, let him push his own tongue into Darcy's mouth this time. Let him lap at his mouth, stroking over his lips, and then swirling his tongue in the heat between Darcy's teeth and bottom lip.

 _That_ elicited such a reaction from Darcy that he surprised even himself. It ran along so many nerves he could feel himself growing heated, his stomach clenching slightly as he went from interested to _aroused._ He could feel his length beginning to stir. He let out a low sound, emanating from deep within him.

Charles paused at the sound, hesitating. Darcy kissed him hard on the mouth, closed lips, once, twice, thrice.

'You...you wish to continue this education?' he asked, struggling to find his voice at first.

'Fitzwilliam, I will eagerly receive any education you wish to bestow on me,' said Charles breathlessly, chest taking in deep lungfuls of air.

Darcy looked into his friend's face. It was so open and trusting, and further examination of Charles' eyes revealed dark pools where his pupils were blown.

In that moment he decided what must be done, 'Sit on the bed.'

Charles nodded and moved past Darcy to sit down on the edge of the mattress and looked up at him expectantly. Darcy took a breath before moving to kneel at his friend's feet. He lifted a boot-clad ankle and set about removing it and its partner. Beneath the boots were Charles' stocking clad feet and Darcy pulled the material off each in turn, to expose pale and perfect feet. On impulse Darcy put his mouth to the ankle he was holding. Distantly he heard a breath hitch.

He shifted himself so he was kneeling between his friend's splayed legs. Kneeling up he captured Charles' mouth in a kiss that lingered for longer than he'd originally intended. His next step was to rid Charles of his waistcoat and shirt. But he could do that whilst his mouth was occupied, could he not?

With only a few fumbles he managed to work his way down the buttons on Charles' waistcoat and pushed at it, indicating to his friend that it needed to be off, off. His shirt soon followed suit.

Pulling Charles into an embrace, Darcy ended the kiss between them. One of his arms came up to thread through Charles' hair from where his face was hidden in the crook of Darcy's shoulder. Darcy trailed his mouth along Charles' neck and over the line of his shoulder. They remained like that, held still except for their panting breaths and the sound of Darcy suckling bruises onto Charles' skin filling the room. Darcy's other hand came up to smooth over the perfect, perfect skin of Charles' back. He trailed over shoulder blades, running down Charles' spine until fingers dipped low into the hem of Charles' breeches. Darcy hummed, as Charles' already unsteady breathing was interrupted by a whine.

Darcy extricated himself from the embrace and sat back on his knees, face titled to look up into his friend's face.

'Charles,' he whispered, 'Charles I am going to make you experience such pleasure as you've never had before, I shall show you what it is to feel completion at the hands of another,'

Charles, seemingly beyond words simply stared at him, mouth parted slightly as he inhaled.

'Lie back,' encouraged Darcy, and as his friend did so he knelt up and set about removing Charles from the last of his garments.

Letting the cream-coloured breeches fall on the floor to be forgotten Darcy reached over for a cushion and placed it under his knees as he settled himself between Charles' legs which trailed over the edge of the bed, feet softly resting on the floor. Charles was laid back on the coverlet, the top of his head almost touching the wall. He seemed unsure what to do with his arms and hands and so after several moments of scrunching them on the blanket beneath him they went still as he waited.

Darcy stroked his hands up Charles' legs, over his knees and across his thighs. Fingers brushing though light hair. He caressed Charles' thighs, hands running up to hip bones which jutted out. Darcy let his thumbs trace patterns into the skin, alternating between soft touches and firmer pressure. Darcy edged closer, drawn in by the reaction his touch was having on Charles.

Charles was laid out, his pale skin flushing as Darcy continued his stimulating caresses, his chest was raising and falling with increasingly shallow breaths, and his cock was _definitely_ showing an interest. Half-hard and wet around the tip, Darcy needed no further invitation to take Charles in his mouth and coax him to full hardness with a hand wrapped around the base.

'Ohhhhh' Charles moaned almost unconsciously as Darcy lathed the tip with his tongue and simultaneously stroked the length of him.

'Mmmmmm' hummed Darcy and the vibrations sent little waves of pleasure through to Charles, who's hands scrabbled on the sheets again for purchase, his hips bucking slightly as Darcy sank down, taking in more of him.

Darcy threw out a spare forearm to hold down Charles' hips and keep him steady as Darcy started sucking him in earnest, causing all sorts of new pleasurable sensations to race through Charles' body. He knew this must be overwhelming for his friend, but he wanted Charles to be overcome, to be so filled with sensation that he felt like he would burst. Never before had he been touched this way, never before had someone caused him to moan like he did with such abandon. Darcy was the first, only he had seen Charles like this, only he had made Charles _feel_ like this.

In turn, Darcy had never felt like this with anyone. He had never wanted to take someone apart as much as he did Charles. He knew the techniques, had learned them from other men, had touched and been touched by others but this was different. He wasn't doing this seeking his own pleasure, he was still almost fully clothed for a start, no, this was all in pursuit of Charles' pleasure. He wanted Charles to _feel,_ to _experience,_ to _enjoy,_ and if Darcy was the one that could give him that then he would be satisfied by that alone. His own cock was hard in his breeches but he spared it no mind. This was all for Charles.

He sped up his pace, his movement on Charles' shaft aided by spit and precome. His hand dropped to Charles' balls, red and sensitive below his attended cock. He took them in his hand, massaging them, squeezing them lightly, pulling huge shudders from Charles.

'D-Darcy' Charles stammered, his chest heaving.

Darcy pulled off and looked up to see Charles propping himself up on his forearms, looking completely undone. Darcy felt his cock pulse at the sight.

'D-ddont stop!' he cried out in almost anguish.

'Very well' replied Darcy in a tone much more level than he'd've expected for someone who had just been fellating a cock. And with one last, long look at Charles he took him in his mouth again, as far in as he could manage and continued to pleasure his friend.

He could feel Charles fall back against the mattress and squirm although the arm across his hips kept him from choking Darcy with his cock, not that Darcy would have minded too much, but perhaps that was for another time. Charles was now moaning on every upstroke Darcy performed on his cock, his volume varying depending on how much breath he could contribute to the sound.

He could tell when Charles was getting close to release, his thighs began pressing into Darcy's sides, feel slipping and sliding on the floor as Charles' feet scrunched and pointed in almost overwhelming sensation. Darcy withdrew slightly and sucked the tip hard, pumping the rest of the shaft with his fist as Charles reached his climax and came. Darcy lifted his mouth from Charles moments before and continued to stroke him through his orgasm as come spurted from the head and coated Darcy's hand. Charles came with a cut off moan and after several short breaths what sounded like a sob.

Darcy looked up. Charles looked completely _wrecked._ His face was blotchy and flushed, he was still shuddering with small aftershocks. Darcy surged up and clambered up Charles' body to kiss him soundly on the mouth. He couldn't resist, Charles look edible.

Charles stiffened minutely, then melted in to the kiss, bringing his arms up to wrap around Darcy as Darcy shifted to straddle Charles' hips.

Charles kissed like someone who was drunk, all languidly and sloppy. But Darcy couldn't bring himself to mind.

They kissed like that for sometime, Darcy capturing all the soft sounds Charles made, remembering them, etching them into his mind.

After a while, Charles pulled away and stared into Darcy's face, his own full of wonder 'I had not known it would be as enjoyable or pleasurable as this,' he said. 'To think I now know what to expect…'

Darcy snorted softly, 'I do not think any woman you marry would know how to suck cock on her wedding night Charles.'

Charles looked confused, 'Is this not how I would lie with a woman?'

'An experienced woman perhaps, such as you would not find in reputable society,' answered Darcy.

'But you-?'

'You forget my dear Charles, I am not reputable society,'

'My dear man!' exclaimed Charles, 'You are the most respected man in all of society-'

'Charles you flatter me but-'

'I'll not hear it Fitzwilliam, you are my dear friend and I shall not hear it. You are more dear to me now more than ever. Instructing me in the ways of pleasure,' he paused, 'So am I to take it, this is how I would lie with a man?'

Darcy shrugged, 'Man or woman, fellatio is pleasant whoever has their mouth on you.'

'But it is altogether more agreeable when it is you,' said Charles, shifting underneath Darcy to get more comfortable. 'Did you not find it pleasing?'

'I did,' said Darcy cautiously.

'Then why can I still feel you pressed against my hip?' asked Charles.

Darcy stared down at Charles in astonishment. Whilst his words might have been enquiring, the facial expression and tone were one of coyness. Charles was being deliberately flirtatious. If climax had brought out this new side of Charles…but perhaps it had always been there….underneath the cheerfulness, the clumsiness, under it all had been lingering stares, accidental touches, biting of lips.

It had been there all along.

Darcy blinked. Until now, he felt as if he were doing Charles a service, making him feel good, teaching him then passing him onto the most eligible young woman available. But, maybe Charles actually wanted something from _him_ also. Darcy had set his mind to give Charles everything to make _Charles_ feel good. But was Charles now requesting for Darcy to seek pleasure also?

'I…I do not need anything from you' he managed.

'But you need release' pointed out Charles.

'Not necessarily,' replied Darcy, 'tonight was about your exploration, your experience, not mine. I was to show you how one might lie with another. This has been achieved-'

'But surely both parties must want to be satisfied?' asked Charles, 'And want to see each other satisfied?'

'In a typical relationship yes,'

'Then why do you not seek your own pleasure? Maybe you do not find being with me pleasing after all,' said Charles starting to look worried.

'No, that is not it at all,' said Darcy quickly, but Charles still look anxious, 'I merely….I wanted you to feel good, to experience desire. This evening was not about me, not about my release-'

'Why can't it be?'

Darcy did not know how to respond. Charles took advantage of his friend's silence and carried on: 'You've taught me how I can experience pleasure, but I want you to now teach me how _you_ can experience pleasure. Show me what you like, I want to see. I want to witness you loose control. Now I know how it can feel, a thousand times better than by taking myself in my own hand, now I know, I want that for you also…..Fitzwilliam?'

Darcy stared into Charles' face. How had he been blessed to have such a man in his life?

'I do not deserve you, I do not deserve your company,' he growled.

'Regardless, I am here. I am offering. I am naïve, I am ignorant, _show me_ Fitzwilliam. Show me how a man lies with another man and enjoys it himself.'

'You-' But Charles, embolded, silenced Darcy with a kiss.

Passion, which had previously been forgotten flared back into being within Darcy. His cock, which had been softening, stiffened into full hardness once more as Charles pulled Darcy down on top of him.

If he had been a stronger man, he might had resisted. But he was not, Lord knew he was not. He had been under Charles' spell ever since he'd met the man. He never could refuse him anything and in this? This was just another thing Charles had asked of him and let's face it, he was more than willing to comply.

Darcy realised he was still wearing far too many items of clothing and began to divest himself as quickly as he could. His cravat, waistcoat, and shirt were all flung to one side as he came back and reattached himself to Charles' mouth. He did not think he would ever get tired of kissing his friend.

Charles was all hands as he explored Darcy's skin. Running flat palms over his back and chest, fingers tangling in the dark hair across his front. Nails dug into his skin as Darcy experimentally rutted against Charles' hip, seeking friction in an action he was not wholly in control of.

Charles, inexperienced as he was would probably be satisfied with Darcy taking himself in hand and coming over his pale stomach. Yet, Darcy himself wanted more. Charles had asked to be shown….but he did not know what he was asking…

'Charles I-' Darcy began, breathing heavily, mouth so close to Charles' that their lips brushed as he spoke.

'Fitzwilliam, I told you I wanted this, I am tired of you protesting for some reason or another,'

'I- I am not protesting,' panted Darcy, 'I will lie with you, but there are logistics to consider,'

'Oh, right,' said Charles, 'What are they?'

'I would…' and why was this so hard to say? 'I would like to be…inside you,' Darcy said quickly, dropping his head so their foreheads were pressed together.

'Inside me?'

'Only if you want,'

'Will it feel good?'

'It should do, but I will stop, you only have to say if you don't like it,'

'Alright,' said Charles, his lips moving against Darcy's as he looked into Darcy's eyes.

'Alright' repeated Darcy, it was decided.

He sat up and bade Charles to lie on his front with his head on a pillow at the head of the bed. Darcy picked up the discarded cushion from earlier off the floor and put it under Charles hips, raising his arse up at a better angle.

Whilst Charles was getting comfortable Darcy rummaged around in his side cabinet for a bottle of oil. He moved to sit between Charles outspread legs and dribbled some of the oil onto his fingers, smearing it over them to warm it.

'I have to open you up first,' he explained. 'Tell me if it hurts and I will stop,'

Charles nodded in response, his head was lying on folded arms and he craned his neck back to watch as Darcy leaned over him and began to tentatively press a long index finger to his entrance.

'Breathe' said Darcy, watching Charles in return, before switching attention to his entrance which puckered as he swirled around it gently spreading the lubricant. He edged the tip of his finger into Charles, exerting a little pressure to get it past the ring of muscle, the oil helping the way.

'Breathe Charles, breathe,' he reminded his friend as he worked his way in further. Due to the hitch in Charles' breathing he paused, letting him get used to the finger buried within him to the first joint. After a pause he pushed in further. Charles was breathing heavily now, but he didn't tell Darcy to stop.

When Darcy had gone in as far as he could he paused again before slowly withdrawing and pressing in once more. Charles moaned almost lewdly. Darcy's eyes shot up to examine his face. Charles was still looking, fixated on Darcy's hand, finger pushing into him. When he withdrew the finger the second time Charles moaned again and his eyelids fluttered.

'I- I had not known it would feel so- so desirous' Charles stuttered and his head fell back onto his arms, eyes screwed shut.

Darcy needed no more encouragement. He began to fuck into Charles in a steady rhythm, every thrust forcing another moan, and another, and another from his friend. Once his finger was moving with little resistance, Darcy added more oil and another finger. This only added volume to Charles' moans.

Satisfied that Charles was finding much pleasure in this action Darcy resettled himself behind Charles more fully, altering the angle and allowing him to thrust in deeper. Charles' hips began to meet him on the withdraw of each thrust, as if chasing his fingers, encouraging them to remain within him. Darcy was certain Charles was doing it unconsciously out of instinct. He also noticed that Charles had become hard again.

Darcy was pleased with this development. He would once more have the opportunity to provide Charles with release as well as himself. He reached under Charles' hips and pulled his stiff cock back between his legs. Keeping his fingers working deeper into Charles he took him in his spare hand and began to stroke his friend in time with his thrusts.

Charles had now buried his head into his arms, trying to stifle some of the noises coming from his mouth.

Darcy now added a third finger hoping that there wouldn't be too much of a burn for Charles as his hands were too busy to top-up with more oil. Charles grunted but continued to grind his hips down into the cushion. His cock was now leaking profusely from the tip. Darcy stroked it loosely in time with his other fingers pulsing in and out of his entrance. He thumbed over the head of Charles' cock, dipping under the foreskin and swirling the pad over the most sensitive spot. Charles practically wailed at that action, muffling the noise somewhat by biting down onto the pillow.

It fuelled some part of Darcy, to see his friend so undone over really the most simple of motions. He had never expected in even his wildest fantasies that his friend would be so responsive to fingers inside him and under him.

After a few more long minutes of Darcy working Charles open his friend seemingly thoroughly come apart by Darcy's actions, he deemed him ready. Slicking his own, previously forgotten, red and desperate cock with oil he knelt up behind Charles. It was all he could do to hold off on climaxing in the moment. He steeled himself to last this one out.

He tugged Charles' hips up to meet his own, encouraging Charles on his knees, but his head still on his arms. Charles' cock hung heavy and low between his legs as Darcy lined himself up behind Charles' entrance and used one hand to guide himself so his tip was lightly pressing against Charles' pink hole.

The he was entering him. Pressing in slowly but meeting with little resistance, it felt incredible. Never had Darcy gone beyond his imaginations to suppose this would ever actually be a reality. That Charles would let him be inside him. How often had he thought about this. How often had he gone to bed and thrust blindly into his own hand, hoping, wishing, praying that it was Charles instead? To think that it was now actually happening, that Charles was enjoying it, that _he_ was enjoying it. That they were both so full of desire for one another. It was more than he could ever have dreamed of.

Slowly, he entered. Checking all the while on Charles's reactions; his friend was unable to articulate more than blind, franticly panted 'yes's', as he encouraged Darcy to proceed, further, deeper, until all of him was inside. The tight, but slick heat of Charles enclosing him was almost too much to bear. Darcy sunk his head so far forward he was almost touching Charles's arched back. Soon, however, the urge to thrust came upon him and he pulled away. Charles was so tight, that he thought he might come then.

But he held it together. _Restrain._ He wasn't an overeager youngster anymore, thrusting blindly and without finesse. He knew there was a spot within Charles that would make this feel amazing for him. He angled back in, seeking that spot. It took a few more thrusts but a broken moan from Charles and hands scrabbling at the covers told him he'd found it.

He found a maintainable pace that allowed him to hit that sweet spot on nearly every thrust. Charles was shaking beneath him, writhing with pleasure, moaning his name over and over. It was heady, having this much power in giving someone such pleasure. Darcy could feel his release building. It had been incrementally ever since that first kiss which now seemed like hours ago. He wouldn't be able to stave it off for much longer but who knew when he'd be like this again? He carried on, grasping either side of Charles' hips and bringing them to meet his cock, forcing himself as deep as he could get.

The sound of skin smacking together, was outdone by the delightful cries dripping from Charles' lips. Darcy himself felt encouraged to vocalise how he too felt and joined Charles in groaning everytime their bodies came together.

'Fitz-Fit-' was the only warning Darcy got as Charles climaxed beneath him cock spilling a heady second time onto the bedsheets underneath. Darcy would have felt pride at coaxing two orgasms from his friend if he weren't now so desperately seeking his own.

Charles all but collapsed as his orgasm rushed through him and as his hips dropped down to the covers, Darcy followed him down, still inside.

Now only chasing his own release, Darcy propped himself up on his forearms and thrust faster, abandoning all restraint, fuelled by his own desire, his partner satisfied underneath him. He pounded into Charles, hips pumping as he drove into Charles over and over and over.

Then he was climaxing. Hot and cold rushing over him in waves as his cock spent itself deep in Charles. His vision whitened out as his body experienced the total and euphoric sensation of orgasm. Darcy let out a guttural moan and unable to hold himself up any longer collapsed onto Charles' back. He could feel Charles' muscles twitching beneath him as his own aftershocks coursed through his veins. He could only see white light behind his eyelids. He had not come like that in a long, long while, perhaps ever.

It was minutes before he even felt like he was coming back to himself. But Charles shifting beneath him signalled that he should probably move.

He rolled to one side, his softened cock slipping out of Charles easily aided by his own seed. He looked down and something coiled pleasurably low inside him at the sight of the milky fluid leaking from Charles' hole.

He shuddered and lay back as a final aftershock coursed through him. He felt completely wrung out, like his insides had been scoured by the climax that had rushed through him.

Still panting slightly at the exertion the final thrusts had caused him, he looked over to Charles' face. His friend was watching him, pink cheek resting on a flung out arm.

'Are you alright?' Darcy asked.

Charles merely nodded, before blushing and hiding his face.

'Charles?'

Face peeking from under an arm Charles tried to speak but couldn't seem to find his voice. He cleared his throat, 'I…I forgot myself,' he said.

Darcy moved closer on the bed, concerned.

'I….Lord I had not known I was capable of such noises,' he flushed.

Darcy smiled kindly, trying to ease his friend's embarrassment. 'I should not worry,' he said reassuringly, 'What spilled from your lips only fuelled my ardour, nearly as much as what spilled from your cock,'

And at _that_ Charles went even pinker. He stared wide eyes at Darcy, 'You…you are actually _pleased_ with yourself!' he exclaimed, 'To make me come twice, you are so pleased!'

'Aren't you pleased to experience climax twice?' countered Darcy. 'What was it like?' he asked, 'having me inside you?'

'It…it was…'stammered Charles, before getting semi-cross 'It was damn well incredible, and you know it!' he cried.

Darcy smirked, it was nice to have his ego stroked sometimes. But enough of that.

'I am glad you enjoyed it,' he said genuinely, moving in to peck Charles on the lips. 'You were incredible to me also,' he kissed Charles again, softly, gently.

Deciding he couldn't lay like this any longer, Darcy sat up and clambering carefully over Charles, moved to the dresser where a jug of water and cloth lay. He cleaned himself up and returning to the bed, tenderly washed Charles down too.

Charles moved lethargically, sleep clearly nearly upon him. But when Darcy made to pull the covers over him he threw out an arm and tried to pull Darcy down onto the bed as well.

'Stay with me,' Charles murmured, 'We have lain together, now let's _lie_ together, here, in sleep,'

'You would want that?' asked Darcy, dumbstruck.

'Darcy, or course,'

'But that suggests a far greater intimacy than what we have just participated in,' Darcy protested.

Charles looked at him incredulously, sleep apparently forgotten.

'Darcy!' he hissed, 'I have just had your mouth on me, I have had you _inside of me_ and you think _sleeping together_ is the greater commitment? I would not have done those things with you had I not trusted you utterly, completely, if you were not the dearest person in my life! Why do you insist on being so obtuse? Must I convince you every single time of my feelings towards you? Of my love towards you? I thought you must understand by now.'

Darcy stared.

'Of your love towards me?' he repeated.

'Yes' replied Charles simply. 'If you feel the same as I hoped, I thought you did, then pray do not stand there any longer, but if you do not and I have read this entirely the wrong way then please leave as I really do not have the strength to bear it,'

And as Charles' voice nearly broke on those final words. Darcy felt his own heart shattering too. Here was a man, entirely too good for him, entirely too perfect, confessing his love for Darcy. It was far more than Darcy had been prepared to feel. He was almost angry at how much Charles made him _feel._ With Charles he felt happy, hale and whole. With Charles, everything was right. He'd done things tonight that he'd never once considered would actually happen, and he'd done it knowing it would be the first and last time he'd get the chance. Charles was going to marry some pretty, silly girl and that was it. He'd lose his friend, if not at the next ball, the one after that, or the one after that.

Then, here was Charles, confessing his trust and admitting his love for Darcy. Although Darcy couldn't entertain for one second that he deserved Charles, Charles seemed to think he deserved Darcy and…..and who was he to ever refuse Charles anything?

'I love you,' he said. Simply, plainly, unguardedly.

Charles held out his hand and Darcy took it, letting himself be pulled into the warmth under the covers and into the embrace of a man who didn't see the Darcy of society, the Darcy of the world, instead he saw Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam, a man who loved and laughed and lived, but had never had the chance. Perhaps now, with Charles, he might now have that chance.


End file.
